Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid
by PrincessZeldaBelle
Summary: **Finished!!** Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick’s past returns to haunt the present.
1. Ch 1

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

"Rick!" Evelyn called, the infant Alexander in one hand, a ladle in the other. The pounding at the front door that had just seemed to cease came again, as Alex began to scream and the pot on the stove quickly boiled over.  "Rick!"  The silence from upstairs was more than enough of an answer for her as she threw the ladle onto the stove, trying to pull the heavy pot off with her free hand, spilling half the stock over the kitchen floor.  The knocking came a third time, as Evelyn all but threw the pot on the floor, Alex grabbing for her hair, screaming bloody murder.  "Coming!" she cried out, trying to shush the baby as she made her way from the kitchen to the front entry, mumbling under her breath about impatient people and husbands who ignore their wives.

Evelyn glanced out the window without really seeing, throwing open the door to find a young woman, perhaps a year or so younger than herself (but certainly not looking as though she had bared a child, as Evelyn began to grow rather self-conscious about her baby fat that nearly a year later had yet to be shed, the frazzled mat of hair falling from the once tightly-wound bun, and spectacles sliding down her nose, not to mention the baby spit-up that stained her blouse and the soup stock that splattered her hose and shoes.)  "Can – Can I help you?" she asked as the buxom redhead raised an elegant eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I'm looking for Rick O'Connell...Does he live here?" the woman asked, a heavy French accent muddling her words a bit.

"Y-Yes, he does," Evelyn said, noticing that she had begun to stutter as she found she did when she got overly flustered...or really drunk.  "Rick!!" she shouted once more, turning back to the woman.  "Of course the question is," she said, shifting the screaming child to the other arm to give her ear a rest, "if he is even listening."  The stranger forced a smile and some sound that might have been considered a laugh at one time or other, but continued to stand in wait as though she anticipated a great catastrophe.

The thunder of heavy footfalls echoed through to the front foyer, signaling for both women to turn around as Rick called from the hall, "Evy, what's for supper?"  He turned the corner, stopping short as his eyes fell on the stranger.  "Marguerite," he breathed, bewildered.

"Then it's true," she said, pursing her lips.  "Il est vrai, vous fils d'une chienne! Vous sac menteur de merde*!!"  Marguerite turned on the narrow porch, running down the small sidewalk to the street where the cars rolled by.

"Shit," Rick said under his breath, as he grabbed a coat from the front closet.

"Rick, what's going on?"

"I'll handle this."

"But Rick, who—" Her words were cut off at the slamming of the front door.  "Was she?"  Alex's tiny hand reached up, grabbing another fistful of hair with his death-grip.  "All right, all right," she said, turning back to the kitchen with the screaming child, not before glancing out the front window once more to the empty sidewalk.

*Translation (used an on-line translator, so if it's not right, don't blame me.) ~ "It's true, you son of a bitch!  You lying sack of shit!!"


	2. Ch 2

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Ch 2

Evelyn sat reading in an empty bed.  Well, she tried to make it look like reading, in the event that Rick finally decided to grace her with his presence, as she had not heard hide nor hair from him since early that evening when he went running after this so-called Marguerite.  She stared at the page, trying to actually read the latest study on Tut and the accursed dig, to distract herself from her thoughts, but found the words to be nothing more than dark splotches on the page as she stared blankly at it, her mind wandering.  Who was she?  An old fling?  She certainly hadn't acted like just an old fling...and why would she have tracked him down?  That was the part bothering Evelyn the most.  That, along with her words- "Then it's true."  What was true?  Evelyn didn't speak enough French to know what was said, but she knew enough to know it was not very nice.  Either way, she wanted answers.  First and foremost, why her husband was still gone after more than five hours, and not so much as a ring?  And secondly, who in heaven's name was this mysterious woman he was with!

Her rambling thoughts were cut short by the slamming of the front door, followed by the heavy footfalls on the stairs.  Evelyn concentrated, trying to focus on the words on the page, but found it nearly impossible as the door to the bedroom opened, her husband trudging in silently.  She began to bite her tongue.  No, she would not be the first to say anything.  After all, she trusted him, and knew that if he had anything to admit to her, he would do so...wouldn't he?  After all, he did storm out without a word, and as of late, he had been gone an awful lot... No!  She bit her tongue so hard, she nearly yelped, but managed to stifle the cries of pain.  She glanced up, realizing that Rick was silently undressing himself.  Within another noiseless minute or two, he was climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to his chin.  Evelyn stared at his back, almost unbelieving that he had nothing to admit to her...or nothing that he wasn't hiding...

"Go ahead," Rick said, tiredly.

"Go-go ahead?" Evelyn repeated, trying to act surprised.

"Go on.  Ask," Rick said, flipping onto his back.  "I know you're just dying to, so go on."

"Well, I guess you don't know me as well as you'd like to think," Evelyn said, turning back to her book.  She pretended to read for a quiet moment, turning the page to make it seem as though she really was reading it.

"Oh, knock it off," Rick said, grabbing the book from her hands.

"Hey! I was reading that!" she said, having finally started to see the words on the page.

"Uh huh."  He tossed the book to the foot of the bed, staring at his wife.  "So go on.  I know you're just being eaten alive inside."  Evelyn bit back the remark about the scarabs, reaching for the book, throwing it back open to any page.

"I have nothing to say."  Rick grabbed the book, this time throwing it across the room.  Evelyn pursed her lips, folding her arms before her as she stared at her husband.  "Now what on earth did you do that for?"  She was not about to give in.  Not without a fight.  She would not be the one to break...not easily anyway.  She threw the covers back, pushing herself to the edge of the bed.  She did not make it far however, as Rick's hand wrapped around her wrist, holding her back.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice stern.  "I know what you were thinking."

"Oh do you?" Evelyn stated irritated, shifting on the bed to resume facing him.  "And what was I thinking?"

"You were wondering who this Marguerite woman was and whether she was a fling or something more."  Evelyn stared back, trying vainly to keep her jaw from hitting the mattress. "Evy, listen to me.  I would hope you trust me enough to know I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I know," Evelyn whispered, averting her eyes to the bed.  She began to feel ashamed that she at let herself get so carried away.  "It's just that...I'm not...and she was so...and you just left like that..."  Evelyn controlled her tears, glancing back to her silent husband.  "So who is she then?"  This time, Rick turned away, averting his eyes.

"She's...an old flame," he replied quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it mattered."

"Of course it mattered, Rick," Evelyn said, exasperated.  "Especially since I had asked you once before and you told me you had never loved another."

"Now that wasn't a lie," Rick defended.  "Not...entirely anyway..."

"Not entirely..." Evelyn repeated, pausing for a moment as she shook her head, disbelieving.  "Even a little bit of a lie is still a lie."

"Evy, some things are better left unsaid.  And believe me, Marguerite is much better left unsaid and forgotten."  
  


"Except now she's back."

"And not very happy either."

"Well, let me reassure you, she's not the only one."  Rick glanced up at her words.  He was afraid something he had said or done would come back to haunt him.  He just hadn't imagined it to be Marguerite.  He opened his mouth, trying to find the words he had never wanted to say to Evelyn, but found the sound of crying to be what came out. Evelyn closed her eyes, pushing herself up off the bed.  She had heard enough anyway, her anger ready to boil over.  She slipped silently out of the room, closing the door softly behind her as she made her way to the screaming child.


	3. Ch 3

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Ch 3

Evelyn awoke with a stream of sunlight falling softly across her face.  She blinked a few times, mindlessly watching the dust dance in the light as she recalled the events of the evening prior and why she had willingly slept in the rocking chair in Alex's room.  She turned her stiff neck slowly, listening to the silent house for any sounds of movement.  She stood slowly, placing the sleeping child back in the cradle, stretching her tired back.  She wanted to be mad at Rick, but at the same time, she wasn't sure how to be, or even if she should be.  After all, she didn't really find out *why* Rick had gone after that woman.  But something deep down cried out, not wanting to know.  What would she do if Rick decided that he would rather be with his beautiful old flame than with his lump of a wife?  She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back the burning tears.  What would she do if Rick left her to raise this child alone?  She took a deep breath, shoving all doubt and fear down as she pulled open the bedroom door.

She took careful steps down the hall, making sure to avoid the one board that squeaked, stopping as she noticed the sunlight from her bedroom flooding the hall.  The door was open, the bed empty.  She took a deep breath, sinking down against the doorframe.  This wasn't like her.  Why was she beating herself up like this?!  And yet, something inside her poked and prodded, asking over and over again why she hadn't seen this coming months ago, when she had been the size of a sarcophagus.  She lowered her head to her knees as she drew her legs into her, falling uncomfortably asleep with tears in her eyes.

****

Alex crawled around on the floor of the kitchen, hammering several wooden blocks into the tiled floor before putting them into his mouth.  Evelyn sat in a chair at the table, half watching her son, half reading, neither of which she was doing very productively.  Her mind kept wandering, the sounds of her son trying to get her attention falling on deaf ears.  Her thoughts meandered back to Rick; where he had been all day, what he was doing, who he was with...well, she figured she knew that last part.  Nonetheless, there were so many questions with answers that were not readily available.

She was so deep within her thoughts, she failed to hear the front door slam.  Alex, on the other hand, knew exactly who was home, as he began to bounce in his diaper, speaking a language only he could readily understand.

Rick slipped into the kitchen, three bags of groceries in his arms.  He kissed Evelyn atop her head, setting the bags on the table.  Evelyn about leapt out of her skin as the bags slammed down, the father launching his son into the air with a joyful squeal.

"Where've you been?" Evelyn finally managed to say, glancing to the neglected book.  Rick stopped spinning long enough to glance to Evelyn with a raised eyebrow.

"The grocers?" he suggested as though it were plainly obvious.

"All day?"

"Obviously not.  I don't shop like you."  He smiled at her, the grin shortly fading into confusion.  "Is this about last night?"

"Of course it's about last night!" Evelyn said, slamming the book closed.  Rick set Alex back on the floor, his playful mood diminished by his wife.

"Look, I'm sorry I lied."

"Richard, this is not just about you lying." That hit home.  She never called him Richard.  Rick froze, speechless – not a word would come to his lips.  At his silence, Evelyn stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed her coat from the front closet and slammed the front door so hard, every window in the house rattled.  Rick finally broke through the confusion, running for the front door.

"Evy?" he shouted as he threw open the door.  The street was empty save for the single car that rolled noisily down the street.  "Evelyn!" he bellowed, but it was quickly drowned by the sounds of a screaming child alone in the kitchen.


	4. Ch 4

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Ch 4

Evelyn leaned against the side of the London Bridge, ignoring the sounds of the autos that speed by behind her.  The tears had yet to stop burning her eyes, baffled and bewildered that he had actually thought her anger was simply because he had lied to her.  What a fool she had been.  To have thought a man like him could love her and her alone until the day he died.  The heart that was slowly tearing in two proved without a doubt that she would love him for eternity, yet how could she love a man she couldn't trust?  She lowered her head into her hands, the sounds of the entire world silencing in her sorrow.

She neglected to notice the man that had come beside her, however, leaning against the railing.  He stood there for a quiet moment before finding the will to speak.

"Evelyn?" he said softly, just loud enough for the woman beside him to hear before the sounds of traffic drowned it all away.  The woman nearly leapt out of her skin, turning to face her husband.

"Just leave me alone," she said bitterly, turning to walk away.  Rick grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.  "Let go of me!" she cried, hitting his chest with her free fist.  Rick quickly grabbed the other hand, clasping them both in his own.  A car stopped beside them as Evelyn continued to struggle.

"Is everything all right here?" the driver asked.

"Yeah," Rick answered.  "My wife's a little mad at me."  The driver smiled knowingly before putting the car back into gear, joining the flow of traffic once more.

"Everything is not all right," Evelyn said defiantly.  "And I'm not just a 'little mad.'"  She ripped her hands free from his grip, stalking down the length of the bridge once more.

"Evelyn, will you just listen to me for one damned minute?" Rick said, catching her by the arm.  "I'm sorry."  Evelyn spun around, her face red from the tears, her eyes blazing with fire until she made the grave mistake of looking into his eyes. The sparkling blue had lost its shine, clouded by some great secret he longed to reveal.  Her face softened for a second before she remembered her anger.  "I should have told you," he continued after a brief second.  "But I didn't know how.  And I never expected to see her again."

"That's not an excuse."

"I know it's not.  I just wish I knew what to tell you."

"The truth."

"This isn't exactly the ideal place to be explaining that."  He thought for a moment before saying, "Let me take you to dinner.  Please?  I promise I will explain everything."

"Who's watching Alex?" she said suddenly, her son leaping to mind.

"He's next door with Mrs. Bentley."

"And you'll tell me everything?"

"Every detail down to the tablecloths."  She cracked a small smile as she willingly followed him back to the car.

****

"Okay, so there were no tablecloths," Rick admitted after they had been seated at a quiet little café overlooking the Thames.  "But there is a lot to tell.

"I met Marguerite back in the Legion when we were stationed in France. Beni and some of the guys thought it would be fun to take me out for my birthday.  Of course, their idea of fun was the local brothel.  That was where I met Marguerite.  The boys paid for her, we went upstairs...but nothing happened.  We talked until the sun rose.  She told me about her childhood and how she was orphaned, with all of her parents' wealth left to her, but she wanted nothing to do with it, so she sold herself.  Go figure.  As I was leaving, she told me she loved me and asked me to come back.  I couldn't return the first part, but I told her I would come back.  I really didn't know what love was, so how was I supposed to know if I was in it?  Looking back on it all now, I wasn't.  But I did care for her.  So I did keep going back.  She wanted to get married, but I said no.  I wasn't ready...I knew that much.  I also knew that any day we would be getting orders to ship off to Libya.  But I could never find the will to tell her that.  Eventually, the order came, and try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to break it off with her."  He closed his eyes for a moment, the shame apparent in his drooping shoulders.

"So you didn't break it off," Evelyn finished.

"No," he said quietly.  "I didn't know how.  And I certainly know what it's like to be orphaned and feel abandoned.  I couldn't imagine doing it to her.  I may not have loved her, but I cared enough."

"I can see why she was upset," Evelyn said with raised eyebrows.  "I would have been."

"I was nineteen.  I didn't know any better.  I didn't think it would ever come back to haunt me."  He grinned pitifully at her for a moment before continuing.  "For about five months, I thought of nothing but her...maybe I did love her a little.  I don't know."  He suddenly felt strange, telling his wife about his past love life.

"But that still doesn't explain why you ran off after her yesterday...without a word."

"I was getting to that," he said with raised eyebrows and a small grin.  "Like I said, I thought of nothing but her for months.  I had hoped that she would have forgotten about me and moved on with her life.  Yesterday proved to me that wasn't the case.  She had been waiting eight years for me.  I felt I owed her some form of an explanation.  I should have said something before I ran out.  I know.  I guess I just went on the blind faith that you trusted me."

"Rick, I do trust you," Evelyn replied.  "But it's a little strange having some woman come to the door asking for your husband and then your husband, without a word, bolts out the door and doesn't come home for hours...then he won't tell his wife what the bloody hell was going on!"  She realized she was yelling by the end, glancing around at staring patrons.  She sank down low into her chair, her face flushing.

"Sweetheart," he said, taking her hands in his, "I'm sorry.  I know I should have told you last night.  I was tired.  The thought hadn't even crossed my mind.  I had spent the entire night trying to explain everything to her.  It didn't go over very well."  He pulled back as the plates were set upon the table.

"So how did it all end?" Evelyn asked, desperately wanting to hear that he was never going to see her again.

"I don't know, in all honesty.  She seemed all right last night."  Evelyn could read his face like an open book...there was something about last night he still wasn't telling her.

"How 'all right'?"  Rick raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin on his face.

"Well, when I pushed her off of me for about the forth time, she seemed like she was handling it well."  Evelyn allowed a small grin to break.  She reminded herself that had he had anything to admit to her last night, he would have.  Nothing had happened.

"So nothing happened," Evelyn said, wanting to hear him say these words as much as she needed to breathe.

"Nothing will ever happen."

"That is not what you told me last night."  Rick and Evelyn turned toward the voice, just as Marguerite bent over Rick, planting a deep kiss on his lips. Evelyn threw her napkin on the table, standing up so quickly, her chair toppled over.  She stormed out of the restaurant, half the other diners watching her, the other half watching the show at the table just as Rick finally pushed off Marguerite.  "Evelyn!" he cried out, shoving Marguerite aside.  "What the hell did you do that for?"

"It's all a part of the game, mon cheré," she said with a cynical grin. "Vous serez les miens encore*."

"Don't count on it," Rick replied, throwing more than ample amount for the bill on the table, chasing after his wife for the second time in one afternoon.

*"You will be mine again."


	5. Ch 5

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Author's note ~ Just wanted to make a quick comment about a review that had been left concerning Rick's full name.  For the record, it is Richard. :) I guess it's possible for Rick to come from Eric, but I've never known it to happen.  Just wanted to say something about that...  And now, without further ado...

Ch 5

"Hello?...uh, no Rick, haven't seen her...What did you do this time?...Well, I'm a little busy at the moment."  Jonathan glanced back at the beautiful, buxom redhead sitting on the sofa with a grin as if to say, 'I'll be back in a moment.'  "Yes, yes, I'll have her call you if I hear from her.  Uh huh...Good bye.  Good bye."  He all but slammed the receiver down on the base of the telephone with a heavy sigh of relief.  "Sorry about that, darling," he said, bringing two goblets and a bottle of expensive wine back with him.  "My brother-in-law really has such awful timing.  American, you know."  The redhead seemed to smile and nod as if she understood the reference, but Jonathan could see the vacant look behind her eyes.  "Yes, well, anyway.  Where were we?"  He sat down especially close to her, throwing on the cheesy grin this Carnahan was known for.  As he opened his mouth to speak, his hopes of an evening with this amazingly attractive woman were dashed upon a rocky shore as a terrible pounding came at the door of his flat, followed by the voice he had deep down been expecting.

"Jonathan!"  More pounding followed as he glanced toward the door, then back at the redhead.  

He was torn...take his time getting up and getting to the door in hopes that she would go away, or smash all his hopes of pre-marital bliss and answer the door.  At his date's confused look, he simply said – "My sister."  He stood slowly, his conscious pulling him toward the door.  "I'll only be a moment."  He walked quickly to the door of the flat, opening it just a crack, barely dodging Evelyn's fist as she prepared to strike the door once more.  He was immediately taken aback at her disheveled hair and red, tear-streaked face.  "Evy, what's going on?  Rick just-"

"I'm sorry, Jonathan, but I didn't know where else to go."  Giving in, Jonathan opened the door, allowing his sobbing sister entry to the flat, the waves pounding him against the jagged rocks.  He led the way back toward the living room where his date was now standing, putting on her coat.

"Where are you going?" Jonathan asked, not ready for her to leave yet, even if Evelyn was there.

"I really should be going," she said with a sympathetic grin.  "It was nice meeting you," she said to Evelyn as she walked by.

"Nice...meeting you," Evelyn replied between sniffles, sitting down on the sofa dejectedly.  A moment later, Jonathan returned, sitting beside his sister, pouring the wine for the both of them, intent on getting thoroughly inebriated.

"So what happened?" he said after finishing off the first glass in one gulp.

"He's cheating on me," she said quietly.

"Evy, I think you're overreacting."  He refilled his glass adding, "Besides, that's not what he told me."

"Of course that's not what he told you," she snapped.  "Jonathan, she came up and kissed him right in front of me!"

"So?"

"'So?'  What do you mean 'so?'"

"I mean he rang five times in a row.  Come on, Evy.  If he really wanted to run off with this girl, I don't think he would mind terribly that you've gone missing."  He took another gulp of wine, feeling his muscles start to relax a bit.  "Besides, that man adores the very ground you walk on, even if it doesn't always show it."  He smiled at her, picking her chin up out of her hands.  "Remember what I told you the day we left for Hamunaptra?  He may be a cowboy, but his word is his word.  And if I'm not mistaken, he has promised to love, honor, and cherish you until death do you part."  Evelyn glanced back toward the floor, the words running through her mind.  She knew what she had seen at the café...  "Think it over a minute while I get my coat."  Jonathan grinned as he stood.

"Jonathan," Evelyn said, looking up toward her brother.  Her face was still red, but her eyes were now dry and clear.  "He really rang five times?"

Jonathan grinned.  "Well, I can't say for sure, but I don't know anyone else who'd be calling this late.  Sounds like an impatient American to me."

"Then let him suffer until morning."  She picked up the glass, taking a long, hard drink.


	6. Ch 6

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Ch 6

Jonathan rolled off the sofa, his eyes glued closed until he hit the floor.  He lay stilled for a long moment, wondering if it had been merely a dream...until the heavy pounding at the door came once more.  Evelyn peered out from Jonathan's room where she had been lying awake on the bed.  Her eyes grew wide when the first pounding had come.  For two in the morning, there was only one person it could be...  Her eyes danced from her brother on the floor to the door as she pointed vigorously, trying to duck back into the bedroom.

Jonathan trudged to the door, rubbing his pounding head.  One might have thought he would have known the consequences of indulgence...  He turned on the front entry light as the pounding came once more.  "I'm coming, I'm coming," he mumbled, more to reassure himself that he was making progress toward the door.  Evelyn had slipped back into the shadows of the bedroom, holding her breath.  

Jonathan turned the bolt, leaving the chain on the door in place as he pulled open the door.  "I hope you've got a bloody good reason for coming 'round here at this hour."

"My wife is missing.  I think that's reason enough."  Jonathan closed the door, slipping the chain off before reopening it.  "How can you sleep right now?" Rick asked as he pushed past his brother-in-law.

"How could anyone sleep?" Jonathan said with a deep yawn.  "With pounding like that anyway?"  Rick had long since lost his patience, grabbing Jonathan by the shirt collar.

"How could you sleep knowing your sister could be dead right now?"

"I would give Evy a little more credit than that, Rick ol' boy."  He let Jonathan go, allowing him to sink back down onto the sofa.

"You're too damn calm right now."  Jonathan picked up the bottle of scotch he had shared with Evelyn earlier, taking a deep drink from it.

"And you're too damn uptight."  Rick grabbed the bottle out of Jonathan's hand, taking a long swig.  "Now, are you quite calm?"  He glanced up at the American, pointing toward his bedroom.  Rick looked over his shoulder in the direction Jonathan pointed, glancing back at the scrawny Brit with a raised eyebrow.  "I told you to give her more credit than that."  Rick walked quietly to the bedroom, flipping the switch for the light.  The bed was empty, though it had been laid upon. 

"Evy?" Rick called quietly, turning back toward Jonathan who had lain back down on the sofa.  "Jonathan, she's not in there."

"Look harder," he said from the dark.

"Oooooh, that little squealer," Evelyn said softly to herself as she stepped out from the closet.  She glanced at Rick as he slowly turned back, his tired eyes falling on his wife.  They stood for a long, silent moment before Rick finally opened his mouth.

"I'm going to have to kill your brother for not ringing me," he said with raised eyebrows and half a grin.

"Well then, you're going to have to kill me as well because I told him not to."  Her tone was not nearly as joking as she stared back at her husband.  His grin faded as he looked for the words in his exhausted state.

"Evy, look, I know there's a lot I should have told you..." Rick started.

"Rick, it's not just about you not telling me about her," Evelyn said.  "I wish you would understand-"

"Evelyn, I do understand," Rick interrupted.  "I just wish you would believe me when I say nothing has happened!"  He brushed his bangs from his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"I want to believe you..."

"Then why don't you?"  Evelyn averted her eyes, looking for an answer she couldn't find.

"I don't know," she finally said, almost inaudibly.

"Evy," he said quietly, taking her by the shoulders gently, "I know my track record is far from perfect.  But if you can't trust me..."  Evelyn glanced up, a tear rolling down her cheek. She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears she had cried all too much in the last few days.  Rick pulled her in, wrapping his arms tightly around her.  They held each other for a long moment before the silence was shattered.

"It's far too quiet in there," Jonathan said from the front room.  "You'd better not be doing what I think you're doing."  Evelyn smiled slightly as she pulled away from her husband.

"Where's Alex?" she asked.

"In the car.  He finally fell asleep when we got here.  I didn't have the heart to wake him up."  Evelyn nodded, grabbing her coat from the back of the desk chair.  "Go to bed, Jonathan," Rick said, motioning to the bedroom.  Jonathan half-saluted as he walked by, falling face first onto the mattress, snoring before the bed stopped bouncing.

The night air bit Evelyn as they stepped out into the cold.  She pulled her coat tightly around her as the breeze off the Thames picked up.  Both stopped as they noticed the car door standing open, a note on the seat.  Rick raced for the car, snatching up the note before the night breeze could carry it away.

_'J'ai votre fils. Élevons-ensemble le.'_

"What does it say?"  Evelyn asked, her body shaking, though she no longer felt the cold.

"'I have your son.  Let us raise him together.'"  Evelyn's knees gave out as she sank to the pavement.  Rick knelt down beside her, pulling her in.  "Don't worry, Evy," he said quietly, fighting back his own tears as he stroked her hair.  "I'll get him back."

"No," she said, looking up.  She turned to stare him straight in the eyes, stating defiantly,  "I will."


	7. Ch 7

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.

Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.

Thank you to everyone who read (and especially those who reviewed!!)  I've got a BIG one in the works (don't worry, Buff, I'm still working on the Normal Life series… I'm just a little stuck at the moment… gotta make you hate Annie more!! Ha!! :) )  Anyhoo, here's the final chapter!  Enjoy!

Ch 7

"Oh, dear. How is Evy doing?"

"She's finally asleep."  Evelyn's eyes opened slowly, glancing about the room as if to remind herself last night was all too real.  She listened to the two voices floating in softly from the foyer to her somewhat upright position in the chair in the parlor.

"Do you know who might have done such a horrid thing?" Evelyn gradually recognized the voice of Mrs. Bentley.  News obviously traveled fast.

"Yeah, I do," Rick replied.

"Well, if there is anything you need...anything at all, please don't hesitate to give us a ring, you hear?"

"Of course, Mrs. Bentley.  Thank you."  She heard the front door close, the heavy footfalls making their way toward the parlor.  "Hey," he said, kneeling down beside Evelyn's chair.  "How'd you sleep?"

"About as well as you look," she replied with a weak smile.  "Did you sleep at all?"  Rick shook his head silently.

"I've been waiting for word from our favorite person."  Rick shook his head with an exasperated sigh.  "Marguerite's gone too far.  There's a fine line between love and obsession, and she's gone leaps and bounds beyond any measurement of either.  She wouldn't have taken Alex for the sake of having a child.  She wants me.  If I know her, she'll use him as bait."  Both nearly leapt out of their skins as the phone rang loudly though the silent, childless house.  Evelyn looked to her husband, her breath catching in her throat.  With little thought, Rick leapt to his feet, reaching the phone in a few easy strides.

"Hello? ... Oh, no Jonathan, we haven't heard anything yet." Evelyn's shoulders dropped as she heard her brother's name.  "Yeah, I'll let you know.  Yeah, all right.  Yeah ... yeah, bye."  Rick set the receiver down, taking a deep breath as his heart slowed in his chest.  The phone rang again, Rick diving to answer it.  "Hello? ... Jonathan, you realize ... No, you don't have to come over … Yes, I will let you know the minute we hear something, all right?  Now get off the line!  Bye." Rick slammed the receiver down, shaking his head.  "The word 'no' really doesn't mean anything to him, does it?"  Evelyn closed her eyes with a light smile.

"He's just being a worried brother and uncle," she said, laying her head against the large wing of the chair.  Her eyes shot open as the phone rang once more, sending Rick flying in fury.

"I'm sorry, Evy," he said as he reached for the receiver, "but you're about to become an only child."  Throwing the receiver up to his ear, he said, "Really, Jonathan, there is a limit – " His eyes flashed as he grew very silent.  Evelyn watched, sitting up straight in the chair.  "What have you done with him? ... Yeah, I know where that is ... I swear, Marguerite, if there is one hair out of place on his head, you'll wish you'd never –"  He stopped, staring at the end of the receiver as it buzzed quietly back at him.

"What did she say?  Where's Alex?" Evelyn asked, her heart racing.  Rick took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

"She wants me to meet her at the docks by the station at midnight.  Alone."

"Like hell you are," Evelyn said, standing up.  "I'm going with you."

"Like hell *you* are," Rick replied.  "Evy, she's at a point she will do anything.  And I do mean anything.  She will kill Alex without a second thought."  Evelyn slumped down into her chair, resting her head in her hands.  "Honey," he said, his voice softening as he knelt beside her.  "I don't know what she's going to do, but I don't want to risk Alex's life.  It may just be best to do what she asks."

"So when she asks you to go with her, you'll do that too?" Evelyn said bitterly, glancing up at him.

"I shouldn't have to answer that," Rick replied, trying to control his temper.  Evelyn pushed herself up out of the chair, stalking up the stairs.  Rick shook his head, mumbling to himself, "It's a gonna be a long wait 'til midnight."

****

Evelyn sat by the bedroom window most of the day, mindlessly watching the cars roll by on the road below when she wasn't sleeping from pure exhaustion.  Night had come at a crawl, and it seemed like ages before she finally heard the clock strike eleven.  The bedroom door opened with a creak, as Rick slid into the room.  "I'm heading out now," he said quietly, standing a few feet behind his silent wife.  "Jonathan's here."  Again, no response.  "Evy, this is ridiculous.  Talk to me, for God's sake."

"I have nothing to say," she said quietly.

"Fine.  I'm going to get Alex back."  Rick stormed out of the room, nearly knocking over Jonathan who had come to stand in the doorway.  They could hear Rick slam the front door, before Jonathan sat in the chair by the dark fireplace, throwing his feet up on the footstool.

"It'll be all right, Evy," Jonathan said, closing his eyes for a moment.  "I know Rick will get little Alex back."  Evelyn said nothing, watching Rick's car back out of the drive.

"Jonathan, get your coat."

"Wha-what?"

"I said, get your coat," she repeated, standing away from the window.

"But I just sat down," Jonathan protested.  "And besides, he told you to stay put."

"I know very well what he told me, but that's my son out there too.  And your nephew. And I'm not about to let Rick get either one of them killed because he's being a damn stubborn fool.  So get out of that chair and get your coat.  We're going to the docks right now."

****

"I don't like this.  I don't like this one bit."

"Oh, Jonathan, stop your whining.  Look, there's his car.  Turn your lights off."  Jonathan pulled along side the blue Bentley, killing the engine as soon as they stopped.  He grabbed Evelyn's arm as she threw open the door.

"What are you doing? If Rick catches you here, he's going to maim us both."

"So stay in the car.  I didn't come all the way out here in the middle of the night to sit and wait. I could have done that at home."  She shook her arm free, getting out of the car.

"And you should have!" Jonathan said as she slammed the door.  He jumped out of the car, leaning against the top carefully, watching her walk away quickly, trying to keep from running.  "Evy!" he hissed.  "I'm going to regret this, I just know it."

Evelyn made her way as quickly and quietly as possible, looking for any sign of Rick or Marguerite.  A baby's cry caught her attention as it echoed through the tight buildings of the shipyard.  "Alex," she said under her breath, following the sound of her son.  She stopped behind a large crate, peering around to see Rick come to a stop several feet away from Marguerite.  Evelyn resisted the initial urge to run out and save her baby, waiting with clinched fists in the shadows.

"I knew you would come," Marguerite said, a cheerful, knowing grin playing across her lips.

"I don't think I had a whole lot of choice in the matter," Rick replied.  He took a step forward, saying, "Hand him over, Margot."

"Stop!  Not another step!" she said, dangling the screaming child out over the edge of the dock.  Evelyn felt two hands wrap around her arms, holding her back as she nearly darted out.

"No, Evy," Jonathan said quietly.  "Rick is right there."  He continued to hold her as she leaned forward, though she had stopped struggling.

"Come with me, Rick," Marguerite said, taking a step away.  "Tell me that you will be mine once more and we can raise your son together."

"You're starting to sound like a cheap romance novel," Rick said with a raised eyebrow.

"Where do you think I get all of my ideas from?" Marguerite answered with a sly grin.

"This isn't a joke, Marguerite.  I thought you understood.  You told me you understood.  I love Evelyn.  I won't leave her.  Not for you, not for anyone."

"No!  It's not true!  You said you loved me!"

"I never said that!"  Tears streamed down Marguerite's face as she took another step backward.  Rick stepped forward carefully, closely watching her grip on Alex.  "Don't do this, Margot.  It's not worth it."

"I do understand.  I understand completely.  You used me!  You made me think you cared for me but it was all a lie!"

"I did care for you, until you started this little tirade."  He regretted it the moment the words passed his lips. Marguerite straightened up, her face growing hard.

"Then I shall make you suffer as you made me."  She stepped closer to the edge, her fingers relaxing as the child slipped from her hand.

"NO!" Rick and Evelyn shouted in unison.  In a split second, Rick was over the side of the dock, into the frigid river, while Evelyn broke free of Jonathan's grasp.  She raced toward Marguerite as the French woman pulled a small pistol from her handbag.

"If the waters don't kill you, I will," she said, aiming toward the lapping water below.  She squeezed the trigger as Evelyn collided into her, knocking both women into the water below.  The shock of cold raced through Evelyn's veins, paralyzing her.  She could feel Marguerite's grasp slip away, but she could do nothing; her arms and legs refused to respond.  She finally felt herself capable of kicking one foot, then the other, slowly pushing herself toward the moonlit surface.  Slowly her fingers responded, her arms aiding in the push toward air.  Evelyn suddenly felt herself stop, just inched from the top, as her coat caught around an old nail sticking out of the post of the dock.  She tried to pull it free, finding it was a lost battle with the icy waters creepy into her lungs.  The panic subsided as she dropped her arms, slipping out of the coat.  She glided easily to the surface, breaking through the waters with a large gasp.

"Over there, Rick!"  Evelyn dipped back under before resurfacing, but not of her own will.  A hand had wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back to the night air.  Another hand slipped under her other arm, lugging her into a small fisherman's boat.  She coughed for a moment, expelling the arctic waters from her lungs.

"Are you all right?" Rick asked, pulling Evelyn up.  She nodded weakly.  "Evelyn," he started, holding his breath as he tried to find the words to be angry with her, but found there was nothing he could say.  He finally exhaled, pulling her in close, whispering, "Thank you."

Evelyn smiled, closing her eyes as she melted into his sopping embrace.  She stood there for a moment, lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat before her eyes shot open wide.

"Alex," she gasped.  "Where's Alex?"  Rick pulled away, knelling down as he produced Alex smiling happily up at his mum.  She took him greedily, gasping the child tightly before a strange realization struck her.  "He's...he's dry.  But...how?"

"Marguerite had impeccable aim," he said, gesturing to the boat they stood in.

"You all right, ol' mum?" Jonathan called from the dock above.

"Now," she replied with a smile, glancing to her husband.

"Any sign of Marguerite?" Rick called up.  Jonathan shook his head in response.  Rick inhaled deeply, letting go of his past, before turning to his future.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he said to Evelyn with a small grin.  He stepped to the edge of the boat where a rope ladder hanged from the dock above.  Evelyn grabbed his collar, pulling him back, holding Alex to her tightly in one arm, and planting a large kiss on her husband.  "Save that for later," he said with a flick of his eyebrows as he ascended the ladder.

****

The following morning, all the newspaper headlines read of a woman's body washed ashore on the riverfront.  Authorities suspected no foul-play and the case was closed.


End file.
